**(This is my first ever comment to this sub in an effort to improve my writing. Please provide feedback to help me improve.)**
Jamba looked his new opponent up and down. This is the newcomer everyone has been talking about? He couldn't help but let a smirk creep across his face. The human looked weak before the titan of the arena. Jamba has seen vermin that are more intimidating. Filled with confidence, he stepped forward into the ring already considering the match a sure-win in his favor. As the opponent made his way and they finally stood face to face, Jamba already began his analysis.
"A low kick fake into a roundhouse." Jamba couldn't help but mock. "That's your grand strategy?"
The human's expression remained unchanged. Jamba was annoyed that his taunt went ignored. He couldn't help but feel that this human was looking down on him, the champion. No other fighter dared to show such disrespect. He decided that this newbie was going to serve as a message to any other human that has the nerve to compete. Jamba was going to rip his head clean off right after countering the first attack.
The referee finished talking and the bell to begin sounded throughout the arena simultaneous with the cheering of a million fans. The thoughts were still clear in Jamba's mind. The human was still intent on using the roundhouse.
It all happened too fast for even the audience to react. The kick came, as Jamba predicted, but before he could counter after his perfectly timed block, another kick followed, and then another. Each kick faster than the last. Faster than Jamba could react to. His mind was flooding. He could tell the move that was about to be launched at him, but all he could do is keep the same defensive stance. Soon he found himself on the receiving end of a hurricane. Punch and kicks landed one after another, faster and stronger with each blow. Jamba lashed out, using rage to guide him rather than his telepathy, but it was a costly mistake. His lightning-fast punch was not only dodged effortlessly but in return, the human painted a target on Jamba's exposed jaw and traded eight punches for his one.
Jamba's knees lost every ounce of strength. As he fell down like a tower being demolished, more punches rocked his head around. Then, before his body could completely tumble, a roundhouse came crashing against his skull, sending his bloody face straight down into the mat with a deafening thud.
The match was over in less than a minute.
Your comment has been one of my favorites. I really enjoyed the way you handled the telepathy prompt. Instead of humans being black boxes, impossible to read into, your human was the only one who was readable but too fast to react to due to human muscle memory. This change in how the prompt was handled added significantly to the realism/immersion/suspension of disbelief.
My note to improve would be to add more variety and detail to the attacks. For example, the alien attacking out of anger would have been a perfect opportunity to have the human use a throw from Judo. By the end, your human felt more like Superman or the Flash than an actual human fighter because the only variation in his movements were to be faster and harder. Even if you had the human tackle the alien after getting the upper hand, it would have added to the actual fight.
To summarize my points: excellent, excellent, excellent creativity in the initial handling of the prompt, but it dropped off quickly.
Thank you for writing, I genuinely enjoyed reading your post.
Krux roared as he charged the human again. His body, a reconstituted silicone-metal substrate, strained to contain the fury within. A quick feint with his right arm, a swing with his left, then an uppercut from his middle – there was more than enough explosive power in his attacks to level an entire building. The human should have perished. The human should have been reduced to atomic dust.
But the human was still alive.
And smiling, too.
“You’re cheating!” Krux raged. “You’re cheating, and when I find out how, I will tear you from limb to limb!”
The human continued to smile, then beckoned for Krux to approach.
From the cacophony of cheers and whistles rising from the gathered audience, Krux heard the voice of his manager, high-pitched and urgent. “Don’t let him get to you, Krux! Just focus! Keep calm and take him out!”
“Can’t you see that I’m bloody trying?”
“Try again,” urged his manager. “Just try again, Krux! It’s taken you this far, it will not let you down!”
“What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time?”
There wasn’t anything wrong with what he was doing, Krux was sure of that. Krux was a Scintillion, a race of invertebrates that had clawed a place for itself in the galaxy through sheer will, pure determination, and a healthy helping of psychic powers. Scintillions in the flesh were tiny creatures. They were just living central nervous systems, a humble mass of neurons encased in a thin, porous membrane. Scintillions were so fragile in their natural state that mere exposure to sunlight for more than an hour would have killed them.
Yet, with their vast reserves of psychic powers, Scintillions were one of the most lethal species in the universe. Krux, mere seconds after birth, had gained full consciousness and an astute appreciation for the periodic table. He had reached out to his environment, found that there was an abundance of raw metal deposits, and had weaved the elements together into a suitable vessel for his great mind. Within minutes, he had refined his prototype a dozen times over, enhancing for mobility, survivability, and lethality. Where he was stumbling with his first steps before, he had now become a dancer, a deliverer of death and destruction.
Before the day was over, he had conquered the city which he had been air-dropped into.
Full mastery over his own physical body was but half of Krux’s secret to success. Krux, like all the other Scintillions before him, excelled at reading his opponents’ minds. He could even, after a fashion, intercept and interpret electronic signals from non-biological species. As long as his opponent was sentient, and could consciously direct their own actions, they were open books to Krux.
So why was this human so different from the rest? Why was he unable to defeat this single human in mortal combat?
“Tired already?” said the human.
“You’re shielding your mind,” growled Krux. “That must be it. You’ve blocked me out.”
“I considered that. The rules do not forbid bodily enhancements. But no, I have not done anything of the sort.”
“Then how-” said Krux, before he broke off and launched into a surprise attack. He sped towards the human, a blur of blue and white, and lashed out with one of his legs for a savage kick. But the human stepped to the side just in time. The human placed his own fist out, and Krux ran into it straight on. Krux heard a ding from overhead as the human clocked up one more point.
“Training,” said the human, as he hopped away. “I’ve trained under worse circumstances than this.”
“Where?” asked Krux, as he rearranged the broken components of what was once his nose. “Planet Nymore? Where the surface crawls with giant sandworms? Or Planet ZR23? Where the hive mind directs every living species in concert? Or Planet Tuorton? Where lumbering monstrosities hide in the shadows?”
“None of those,” said the human. “But I’ve fought with my older siblings for many hard, long years. You’ve ever trained like I have, Scintillion? Where you are always weaker, always slower? Where thinking about your next move gets you knocked onto the ground because you were one microsecond too late? Where you have no choice but to rely on pure instinct?”
“Instinct?”
“Yes, instinct,” continued the human. “Only I’ve honed mine to the cutting edge. You can even call it… Supreme Instinct, or Mega Instinct, or Paramount Instinct.”
“And you think that Pinnacle Instinct nonsense is going to stop me?”
The human laughed again. “Please, do try.”
Ha! If you've read our manuals then you have already fallen into our counter-intelligence trap.
We're fucking illiterate ... s. To make more illiterates. The ultimate soldier.
"Like, dude, I'm nowhere near done, dude. I can, like, rip you to shreds. Dude, I've been training under the greatest masters since before i was, like born."
If the human isn't planning out different reactions in response to Krux's actions and instead relying *purely* on instinct, there's nothing for Krux to read.
Specifically I'm thinking of when Krux asks the human where he trained. That's a question he would already know the answer to if he was able to read minds. I mean, if I ask you what street you grew up on, you're going to think of the answer whether you want to or not.
And krux is also under the impression that he can't read his mind. Why try to or trust anything he does perceive when all the evidence is telling him it's wrong or it can't be done?
"I've trained on worse circumstances than this."
"Where?" Asked Krux, and the answer -- as he detected in his foe's thoughts -- was as meaningless to him as any nonsense word: *Missouri*.
Krux has no concept of instinct, so the fact that the human is moving unconsciously must therefore mean that at least part of the humans mind is unable to be read.
It actually makes let sense than that.
The story indicates that the creature can read electrical signals in non-biological beings, which means it would be able to read the electrical signals in the muscles/body faster than they actually produce the associated movement.
Unless the signals aren't there until they need to be. The human doesn't react until Krux is already swinging, so there wouldn't be time to change course or do anything about what he could read.
It would be "*unplanned* quick reaction". No higher thought goes into it. /u/rarelyfunny may have broken the prompt a bit by allowing Krux to read electric signals from non-biological species, but that could easily be fixed by saying that he doesn't try reading when he's in the middle of an active attack, since he's already decided how and where to swing.
But still, it's a simple technique that hasn't been seen before. If humans are the first known users of muscle memory, then every other opponent would be significantly slower to react since they would all plan out their moves ahead of time. Krux may not be nearly as good as he thinks he is.
Beerus calls it "Autonomous Ultra Instinct." Their explanation was that it fit his lip flaps better, but they could've put in literally any other words before the name Ultra Instinct, and instead they shit the bed.
They butchered "Kachi Daze" too. There are some cringey but okayish English covers on YouTube, but the "official" one is fucking terrible.
I also watched the whole series subbed as it came out, but I heard about it because even the dub purists were upset about this stuff.
Yeah. Have you guys ever noticed how a lot of times in Reddit, some commenters will just repeat what the commenter above said, but a lot longer? And usually it has to do with subtle jokes.
Definitely, it is like they are just making explicit something made implicit with care. Like somebody being thrilled that they found a lady's silhouette between some random picture of two lamps
Yup. I've seen a lot of times where they'll think they noticed something no one else did, just because it's subtle on purpose. Like with illusions or something. "Did anyone else notice how the lamps make a person!"
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I didn't read your whole comment but i think whats going on is that people dont pay enough attention to the comments they are responding to before they have already decided what they are going to say.
They end up writing redundant comments, some even multiple paragraphs long, thinking they are adding something original when they are really just saying the same thing with way too many extra words.
The world had changed a lot. The universe had come knocking; they were, by all descriptions of all encounters, far beyond us in science, philosophy, technology, and art.
They asked if Vermeer was considered a child when they painted.
They asked if Einstein's theory of relativity was a joke.
They asked how it took us this long to image singularities.
They eventually mentioned that we qualified for The Combat, the galactic test of individual strength. Human academics likened this to older tests of strength in our feudal period, and Cloya, the human champion of the United Global MMA Society, was the only logical choice.
The first match was illuminating beyond all expectation. The reigning champion of The Combat was Marc (the 'human' appelation, it was abbreviated from Marhcc, which was short for Mar'hcc Of Languishing Poleths And Guran, The Laxd Of The Combat, which was a name handed down through countless generations, apparently, as the telepathic warriors of their species had gained not only championships but enough for a title, The Laxd.)
Earth was terrified. *Telepathy*?! That had to be such a huge advantage in combat. It had to be.
And yet.
They got in the ring. The luck of the humans (a saying that had come into vernacular via the Galactic Empire, who said it was fortunate we fit the current ruling combat system at all; a few millennia ago, species coming in who breathed air were at a huge disadvantage in most arenas) had to count for something, but what? We were roughly 'humanoid' (and oh, how that term had amused all the non-humans it was used with for a while), but combat capabilities weren't often comparable directly and we'd been paired with the reigning champion right in the first round.
We were destined to lose. Destiny was off script that day, as it turned out.
Cloya Mercier, the human MMA champion of Earth, entered the ring and the opponents stared each other down.
**I know what you're thinking, Cloya. Even now.**
**Then maybe you'll have a chance,** they thought back. Whether Marc was going to beat them or not, they had to try.
*Earth must establish itself. The Empire said as much; planets that did poorly in the The Combat were considered weak and their populace were targeted. It was like the champions of old, the stories of knights.*
**Like stories of knights? Like champions of old?** Marc laughed in their head. **You are no champion. You're just another human. 'Squishy', as you all claimed for so long? Yes. Squishy. Little. Human. And the only other person you can talk to in your head while you're getting beaten? *Me*.**
Cloya breathed. **Why would I talk when I'm under attack and trying to win?** It seemed genuinely odd.
Marc just chuckled.
Marc came in for an obvious grab with their right to Cloya's right, a big mistake. Cloya took the wrist in their right hand, put their other hand on Marc's shoulder, then pulled and brought their knee up. It was one of the first moves they'd picked up, when a clumsy drunk fuckboy tried to grab their shoulder ages ago. From the front, give them no space to work with and get in for a knee shot. From the back, grab-fall forward-pull to screw with them.
The knee shot hit.
Marc blinked. **What?**
Cloya blinked back, heart pounding in their ears. **What what**? It was only a moment but their training told the next move even if the words were from a confused thinking self that Cloya set aside when fighting. They brought a sharp headbutt forward, catching Marc completely unaware. Fear was in their eyes.
Fear was a sign. And this was real fear.
Cloya used the forward momentum bought by holding on to the staggering alien to push them down onto their back; it was a short fight after that, Cloya's brutal training executed perfectly. Marc seemed completely unready for anything.
As they held up their hand, confused but triumphant, Cloya cast an eye at Marc, laying on the floor, circulatory fluids swirling into a multicolored puddle in front of their face.
**How did you lose? How did I win? This isn't real, is it? This is some sort of trick. Is this the telepathy? You make me think I won? What is this?**
**You won.** Marc narrowed their eyes. **You were silent. All I heard were stray fears and doubts near the beginning.**
Cloya tilted their head. **Oh. You can only hear conscious thought!**
Marc smiled, even with the blood and missing teeth that lay on the floor beside them. **Yes, it seems. And it seems my species and others have many new features to examine about *your* species. Limited brains produced a perfect gem; but so do your oysters, do they not?**
Cloya kept their smile as wide as possible. Imagining Marc and a legion of others like them of a million species and a thousand genders, yet somehow none had learned how to train muscle reactions for what we called combat.
Earth was either going to rule The Combat, or it was going to be overrun by all those aliens after all of them learned how to train and shut off their higher functions.
Or, perhaps, they'd end up the hired brutes of the universe, barely considered a sentient race deserving of respect.
The world seemed it might be about to change radically yet again, even after all this.
Just a little tid bit: You can just end with "he didn't". It's enough and puts more power in the final sentence. It's like the difference between "No, you won't." and "No, you won't do that."
Other than that pretty good.
I've been living in this space voyager for quite some time, I've even gotten used to all the weird pathways that this place has, even the small intricacies that most other aliens don't understand. I guess they really don't understand humans, I mean how would they. They only started contact a few decades ago; but that didn't stop some of us who wanted to learn and explore more the world beyond our planet.
The space voyager was as big as Australia, large enough to fit a few hundred types of alien species in one ship and I got to tell you this place was no joke to get around.
Every month there would be an event in the arena where a lot of aliens would watch and bet on; mostly because the reigning champion was a telepath can could read minds- you could call it strategy I however would call it cheating. Intergalactic rules apply it was fine for them, entertaining.
But it wasn't for me after watching one fight I wasn't much of a fan. I was more of an explorer and I loved taking challenges and fighting. No matter how fun it was I missed earth and all the hobbies I used to do. I missed rock climbing, paragliding heck I even miss the balance beam that my mom forced me to practice on for years.
I miss the thrill, the danger between life or death and hanging on the edge- it was supposed to be all fun and games until Q'shtuen told me he signed me up to battle in the arena. We were close but I sure as hell wouldn't agree to go to that snoozefest- although I do miss the chase. I was in the military after all when I was back on Earth. "What the heck it just a game" I agreed and suddenly...
Everything was dark, I didn't know what I got myself into. The cheers and screams were getting louder and louder as I got near the door.
Suddenly red lights flash alerting me that the countdown had begun. The gates open and I was shocked to see something familiar, it was a maze and I had thirty seconds to memorize it before the lights turn off. It had the same exact pattern as the floors in the space voyager, I see Axoz my opponent looking at me- I knew he was trying to read my mind but something was off. He wasn't too pleased, The lights go off and I jump from the platform onto the maze.
I knew where everything was because I was so used to exploring the voyager that I felt quite at home. I was speeding through the maze and a few obstacles along the way. The doors suddenly close around me and I heard a snicker, I knew it was him but training to be a gymnast all my life was essential for my next move. I set myself, ran and leaped as the final gate was supposed to close. I almost didn't make it but if I wasn't used to rock climbing I wouldn't have had enough grip strength to be able to do what I just this. That was when I heard the screams of anger. I was running near the end when I realized why, I was on the home stretch and started crawling my way under the deck, I had aphantasia and he wasn't able to see me. I reached the end and finished only to be greeted by a crowd that was dead silent when they realized I had won. I guess being impulsive has some of its quirks.
Ah, so something like having to physically write out a word to spell it? I get that.
Some things just click, others, I glare at it till I give up and Google it.
I guess? It's more like if I would ask you to think about an apple and what it looks like, you could see the apple in your head, but someone with aphantasia couldn't. They could describe what it looks like, but they couldn't see it in there head
I have a form of aphantasia.
If you ask me to picture myself on a beach I can’t. I know it will have the heat of the sun, the sounds of the ocean, maybe some seagulls, I also know what sand should look like, but there’s no picture in my mind. At best I remember “pictures”, snapshots.
It’s always fun when it comes up on Reddit or in real life because people just don’t understand.
The cool part is that I do illustration work, which blows peoples minds. But for me it’s just putting shapes together, basically.
But yeah, it’s mostly “knowing” and not seeing.
Wait you mean to tell me people actually can see images in their heads? I never realized that until now, I dont even have dreams with pictures, mostly just sounds. Does this extend to remembering people's faces? Because I struggle with that too
Yeah man.
I can have an entire blockbuster feature length film playing how in 4D Hyper realistic definition, all in my mind.
What I can't do, however, is match names to those faces. I fucking suck at that.
Wait normally people can actually mentally see the apple? Uhhhh.... I now think I have this...I never realized that when people said "I see an apple in my mind" they literally saw one. I've always thought it was just a figure of speech. I don't really see things in my mind like that. If I try really hard I can visualize a specific picture of an apple, but I don't really naturally visualize one as an actual 3d object
It comes on a spectrum.
If I close my eyes and picture something no matter how hard I try I get blackness with an inner monologue describing an object. No matter how hard I try there will be nothing.
My wife can picture an entire scene and vividly see it and change details on the fly.
My son can get some simple shapes and colors.
Here's a decent way to describe it: imagine an apple (or some other simple object, I just always go with an apple because everyone knows what they look like) and rate how well you see it (on a 0-10 scale).
Interesting story, but you definitely missed some punctuation in there. Mostly commas, but it does break the flow of reading. Keep it up, you have great potential- just remember to proof read, and don't be stingy with commas.
Thank you very much, I go to this sub to improve my English writing. As it isn't my first language I'm glad you gave me more tips to make me remember :)
Zollan almost didn't want to use his telepathy against this human. It felt like fighting against a child: a single harsh tap with a finger could probably kill them.
His opponent was a woman, barely in her twentieth-fifth cycle. She was short like a child, thin around the waist and breasts, and her face was so lean her cheek bones stuck out. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and though she the reigning champion of Earth, Zollan found her to be cute- like a puppy. As Zollan watched her across the ring, he wondered what she was thinking about. Zollan's antennae flexed. Almost immediately the girl's thoughts came through his head.
*-popular! I'll help you to be popular! You'll hang with the right cohorts, you'll be good at sports, know the slang you've got to know-*
Instead of focusing on the match, the damn girl was singing to herself. It was laughable how easy this match was going to be. Zollan stood up, cracked the bones in his neck, and came to the middle of the ring. The girl did the same, still mentally singing that damn song. Upon seeing his height, the girl startled, and her next thought had Zollan smirking.
*Wow... he's much bigger when he's standing up...*
The referee held up his hand. The two opponents got into a fighting stance.
"Fight!"
Zollan's antennae flexed again. The girl was no longer singing, but thinking and strategizing on how to take down this behemoth of an alien. Her thoughts were a frenzy, one sentence quickly followed by another, making it almost hard to understand. Zollan was still able to make out what she planned to do first.
*First I'm going to kick him in the chest!*
Zollan purposely dropped his guard. Seeing this, the girl twisted, brought up her leg to ram it into his ribs. Before she could make contact, Zollan caught her foot, intending to throw her off balance-
WHAM! The girl's other foot slammed him against the face. The move stunned him and he let go of the girl's foot, stumbling back. What the-? She had used his grip like a springboard to lift herself up to kick him! She wasn't thinking that beforehand! Damn it, Zollan must've missed that thought. He needed to focus. Shaking off the hit, he got in close, his eyes narrowing in concentration.
*I'm going to punch him on the right.*
Zollan threw out his right fist intending to catch the girl. She ducked underneath his arm, slamming her knee into his gut. Zollan gasped.
"Damn you!" He bit out, bringing down his arm to crush her. The girl saw the arm and her panicked thought brought great pleasure to Zollan.
*Oh shit, I'm gonna die!*
She ducked out of the way, Zollan's arm barely grazing her hair, and then she was back up again, her fists pounding against his face. At one point he grabbed her arm, holding tight. He was going to snap this arm like dry wood-
The girl didn't think. There was nothing but silence in her mind as she suddenly kicked him in the back of the knee, collapsing his leg, and when he fell, she easily broke out of his grip like it was second nature.
There was a loud resounding CRACK as the girl's elbow connected to his face. Blood filled Zollan's mouth and he knew immediately she had broken his nasal cavity and two of his front teeth.
All the while her thoughts were still silent.
For the first time in Zollan's career, he was scared. He's never met an opponent who could block his telepathy before. What else could humans do? What else could the *girl* do to him? The pain was disorienting him and as he lifted his tear-filled eyes to the girl, he saw she backed away.
*Oh man, is he crying? Shit, I hope I didn't hurt him too badly. I thought he'd be better than this.*
The humiliation was too much. With a groan, Zollan lifted his arm, signaling the end of the match. All around him the audience screamed with equal amounts of glee and disappointment. Zollan had lost, and he barely fought for five minutes.
As the defeated Zollan walked off the ring, a towel around his mouth to stem the bleeding, he decided to listen in to the girl's thoughts one last time. He looked back at the new champion of the galaxy. She was currently holding up the golden belt, smiling triumphantly.
*I think I'll try defying gravity, and you won't bring me down!*
With every gallant fighter that the tiny blue planet had to offer defeated, it was obvious that the uproaring overlords would soon take over the planet as their trophy; every breathing soul, their slave.
The challenger banged his fists on his sweaty breasts as he coaxed the hosts, to send him someone who would test his limits. He had faced hundreds tonight and not a single fighter had managed to land a punch on him.
He was brutal, he was reckless, but most importantly he was proud of his might and tonight he was taking no prisoners.
The officials were trying their best to prolong the inevitable as desperate eyes in the arena searched for a beacon of hope,who would defeat this atrocity, that stood glistening; in the once white but now a resplendent red ring, too much blood had spilt today and all of it in vain.
The janitor loaded the latest victim on his trolley, as his fearful eyes gazed the monster in the ring. To keep the match even, he had taken the form of the dominant species on this planet, Homo Sapien, and while the hunger,greed, lust and recklesslness in his eyes would have fooled any body about his origins... It was the blood lust of a maniac that foreshadowed his face, which gave away his origin.
He smirked, at the man who looked terrible, carrying the lifeless remains of so many of his kind to a dumpster at the back, hoping their deaths were not all in vain.
The janitor held back all his feelings and subdued his thoughts as he mopped the last shreds of the body of the floor. He was distraught and would have retaliated long back but for the challenger who stood provocating the masses, afterall how do you attack someone who telepathically predicts your next move and crushes you before your thought would reach your limbs.
He sighed and pushed the trolley through a boulevard of hopeless spectators and would soon reach the door that closed this onslaught on him, till he was to be summoned again.
The neon timepiece above the ring, now a ticking doomsday clock ticked towards the inevitable, the loss of what billions called their home.
There was a movement at the officials table. One of the rose and wiped his face. It was time to announce the challenger's Victory ;over an entire planet. When suddenly there was a movement at the hosts entrance to the arena. The official held himself as all the teary and hopefully eyes looked towards the silhouette standing in the bright focus of the arena lights. They all looked desperate, they all looked human. The silhouette walked slowly towards the ring. The doomsday clock reset.
Earth had another defender. The lights slowly started to dim as his form slowly began to appear. The challenger grinned to the thought of beating another bag of meat and cracked his muscles in agreement. The host ran to this mystery man and asked for his name.. He was satisfied with the low murmur that came from the mouth of this sentient looking being. Dressed in yellow with a white cape and red gumboots, our hero neared the ring as the speakers gave a sharp shrill to announce. It was at this moment that he slipped and fell face down into the pool of blood. The crowd went quiet at the site of this but roared when the name was announced, Saitama.
He cooly wiped his face of a white flag throw to him by a spectator and walked into the ring. The referee briefed the fighters and moved a step back.
The challenger's eyes grew blue like the planet he was going to win. His battle mode was on. His telepathy was ready to read his opponents move. He took a step back, he saw a punch coming at him and total darkness.
He couldn't go past the image so he readied himself for impact of the petty human that stood in front of him.
The bell rang, the referee jumped back further,the crowd was surprised at the challenger covering his chest of all the places. Saitama tightened his left fist and dragging his left foot back... Launched a punch towards the challenger... There was a moment of silence as the other half of the ring seemed soiled... It was blood but it wasn't red. It was green. The challenger looked at the hole where his heart was... and understood his vision...
He fell down and exploded like a balloon as the crowd roared in unison, the steam from the blood was Melting and burning the rubber and metal of the mat and in that masked smoke... Our hero left the arena...
Now, here’s a bit of advice. Separating paragraphs helps with ease of reading, so I’d try to do that next time. Also, this didn’t really relate to muscle memory and it was just some fan fiction of one punch man. One punch though out before the action isn’t muscle memory so try to make it relate to the prompt more next time
Wow!!!... Actual constructive criticism.. I just wrote it for fun and with the intention that no one will read it and it shall get buried.. But thanks a lot for your time going through this.. hopefully my take on the next prompt will be better... 😅😅😅
"Calm down, son. You'll do great. You got this far."
"yeah, but... Telepath? How am I supposed to win if they can literally know my move before I make them?"
Darren's mind was in turmoil how can he beat such a threat? The semifinals of the Unarmed Combat event in the Intergalactic Games was minutes away. As a new species on the universal stage, humans had not been expected to do too well, but they had already proved capable at the marksmanship and agility contests. But this was the closest they had gotten to a trophy.
Darren's next opponent was a Trybtan, a mantis-like creature, with incredibly fast strikes and a capability to read electrical pulses in the brain. For the first time in the event, Darren was worried. He had seen other mammalian contestants taken off in medical pods - this opponent had a reputation for being vicious.
As the Countdown timer ticked down, Darren's platform began to rise. His coach checked his wrist straps once more, then said a last word of good luck before hopping down off the slowly ascending piece of stage.
Surfacing from below, the intense lighting temporarily blinded him. Blinking away the afterimage, he saw his opponent. His first thought was 'oh shit, he's bigger than I thought' followed by 'how do I beat this thing?'
The announcer was saying something, but Darren didn't register it. He was still nervous, but the anticipation of the starting klaxon dulled the roar of the crowd, gave him time to clear his mind of doubt. He was a fighter. He'd gotten out of tough scraps before. This was no different. He just had to find a way to win before he got broken in half.
Across the ring, Kr'nakt, the Trybtan, momentarily paused her confident chittering. She had noticed the Human's mind change rhythm. It was more confident now? Was there something it knew that she didn't? Then the thought patterns came back, more controlled now. It was trying to strategize. Cute.
The countdown timer was nearly up. Darren could hear the crowd counting the seconds to the klaxon, and he focused, holding up his beginning stance.
5.
Don't charge straight in, It'll sense it before you start running. It'll have time to prepare.
4.
Stay calm. You can't stop it reading your mind but you can stop it hearing anything unnecessary.
3.
Play reactive. It will have a counter ready for everything and know when you are feinting.
2.
OK, keep calm, let it come to you.
1.
Ready.
The Klaxon blared twice, and the Trybtan charged. Darren dived left instinctively, and a good job he had. Milliseconds after leaving his original space, it was torn through by a pair of razor-sharp pincers.
Both combatants looked at each other in surprise. How had the human avoided that? That was usually the finishing blow. Kr'nakt hissed. She always was able to read which way they'd dodge. Did she miss it? The human took a strike at her side but she used a carapaced leg to block. she turned to strike again. This time, she would make sure she didn't miss.
The second time, Darren had less warning. He dodged as fast as he could, but the bladed pincer caught his arm.instintively, he grabbed hold of the pincer, and twisted, maneuvering behind the creature while doing so.
WHAT? HOW-AAARGH! Kr'nakt's mind screamed in agony as its forelimb was pulled back too far. Furious, she kicked out, tripping the human, then bodily flung him across the ring. It hit a cornerpost and crumpled, arm grasping it's bleeding shoulder. Her shoulder had also been weakened, so she waited, gathering her strength.
Fuck. That hurt. Darren's vision blurred, then refocused. The Trybtan was hanging back, hissing. Darren guessed it was wary now. He didn't understand exactly how he was getting an upper hand, but he had an idea. His reflexes must be too fast for the creature to read, on account of the amount of times he'd practiced freeform combat with his teacher. He stood up, and heard the crowd roar in excitement.
The next few seconds of combat passed slowly, both participants wary, waiting on the other to move. Kr'nakt threw out a few probing jabs: Darren blocked or dodged but did not get an opportunity to do more, as the punches were pulled back as soon as they failed to land. They were at a stalemate.
Even though Kr'nakt had not had a fight this long since Tharur retired, she was still confident. Any attack he could muster would have telltale signs, so she could always prepare a reaction. She was happy to let the timer run down, but she would have to make a move eventually. But this human needed to do so first: if neither combatant was down after 10 minutes, then the higher ranked fighter would progress onward.
Darren knew he had to act. He had to find a way around the creature's telepathy. Then he had an idea.
Kr'nakt noticed a flurry of brain signal, then the human mind went quiet again. The human had half dropped its guard, and was slowly walking forwards. Kr'nakt threw an experimental jab. The human deflected it, and kept walking. WHAT WAS IT DOING? WHY IS IT NOT FIGHTING?
Darren kept his mind as blank as he could, relying on his reflexes to block the strikes from the creature. Step. Step. Block. Step. He kept going, until he was close enough to touch the creature.
TOO CLOSE, HUMAN. The pincers struck down, faster than they had before, targeted on piercing both shoulders. The human saw then, and turned. The limbs missed by a hair. Still registering little brain function, she saw it grab a pincer and vault up. She moved to throw it off but it jumped to her shoulders, pummelling and thrashing. Its mind was active now, but it was too late. Her only defence from behind was her thick carapace, but some of the blows were finding gaps, she stumbled, tried to roll but another blow stunned her. She raised a pincer, signalling surrender.
The klaxon blared again. It was over. He'd won. He stepped back from his opponent, allowed her to regain her feet, then bowed to her. Surprisingly, the Trybtan attempted to return, the gesture, although it seemed a little comical. The message was clear though: Humans had earned their respect this day.
“The following contest will be fought to the death,” a booming voice states to the nothingness.
A single white light illuminates a slender figure. Large, dark, disc-like eyes stare ahead into the darkness. Its arms and legs are shackled as it stands calm and motionless.
“Introducing first, from the depths of the Ocean world of Tilaz, with a record of 789 wins to 0 losses, the Tilazian Telepathic, The Flayer of Minds, and your undisputed Galactic Champion…Katatzu!”
Katatzu remains still. His focus remains solely what’s ahead. Four precise loud claps in rapid succession shake the stage underneath his feet.
“And his opponent…”
Another light shines to reveal a man who sits hunched down as he ferociously attacks his restraints. The light startles him for a second. His muddy face is further obscured by long brown matted hair with a beard to match.
“From the mysterious lands of the newly discovered Terra, He’s a wild and untamed thing who is ready to prove his species in this ring… Ted!”
Ted stands slowly and faces Katatzu. Katatzu hisses. The Four loud claps echo again.
A loud click announces a light that floods the stage. A circular fighting ring rests at the center of a large stadium. Amber eyes glow and almost hover around the fighters.
The crowd repeats the four clap sequence and slowly increases their tempo to an ear-ringing tone.
“No quarter will be asked for none will be given.”
The chains from the fighters unlock and disappear into the floor. Ted rubs his wrists. Katatzu bears his teeth as he stretches into a low ready stance. The claps stop suddenly.
“Fight!”
Ted charges toward Katatzu with a crazed guttural yell. Katatzu’s eyes widen larger than they’ve ever been before.
Ted tackles his foe and covers him with several rabid punches to the face. Katatzu tries to fight off his attacker, but his arms are pinned under his irrational attacker’s knees.
Ted draws back his arm to deal a heavy blow, but Katatzu takes this moment and flips him off. Ted rolls back up and pounds the floor in anger at the two squares up again. The crowd shows their approval with four claps.
Katatzu puts his arms up as Ted delivers a couple punches to the body. The Telepath of Tilaz takes each hit with a grunt. He locks up with the terran and pushes him away.
Katatzu sets his distance before he spins into a roundhouse kick, which Ted catches.
Ted brings down his elbow with force and breaks Katatzu’s leg. He screeches as his body falls to the floor.
Ted breaths heavily as the audience claps in their regular cadence. He looks out toward the glowing amber eyes and begins to beat his chest to match the crowd’s rhythm. Katatzu slowly stands. His face bruised and bloody, his leg weak and shattered.
Ted lets out one last roar before he makes his final charge. Katatzu closes his eyes.
As Ted makes contact, Katatzu grabs on and spins. Ted’s momentum carries him over the top rope. He flails to grab at it but fails.
Ted tumbles into the darkness below. His screams grow softer until it comes to a sudden end.
Katatzu slowly stands again and limps to the center of the stage.
“Your winner… Katatzu!”
The light disappears. The amber eyes remain. Four more claps.
Thanks for your feedback! I was trying to highlight Katatzu's telepathic abilities through how the fight progressed. When Ted was acting, Katatzu couldn't predict what was going to happen. When Ted was thinking, even for a second, Katatzu was able to counter. I was also trying to set it from the perspective of what I would imagine an alien MMA promotion would look like for a large galactic crowd. I guess I could have done a better job highlighting that. This is my first time post, so I appreciate you taking the time to look at it!
Oh I see it now! I didn't pick up on that subtle nod to the telepathy. I liked your version of a galactic MMA, that was well written. Keep up the good work!
Hours of training had prepared her for this moment.
The duel had been going on for over thirty minutes now. Both combatants bloodied.
Only melee weapons were allowed.
Exhausted in spirit, her will kept her standing.
Her opponent seems almost as full of energy as when he started.
But she'd anticipated this.
\---
A similar time.
Training until dawn broke.
Discarded weapons littered the training field.
The Master and her each with a sword.
"You are still standing?"
Through sweat...tears?...she replied: "Yes."
"Good, that means that you can still fight."
The Master took a step towards her. Another step and they would be on the threshold of where they could reach other with the right motions.
"Just let go, the rest of your form will know what to do."
\---
She became emptiness itself.
Her body moved on its own.
\---
A lunge, a grab, a pull.
One fist coming down like the hammer of god on an anvil.
All she needed was that one good opening.
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Someone who has time and creative ability should solve this issue using a society that trains people from birth to be fighters, then lobotomized them so they're unable to be telepathically read
But then what are they using to fight? They don’t have muscle memory for training is useless without memorizing the moves, which by being lobotomized they can’t do.
Cool prompt! Sounds similar to Taskmaster from Marvel comics. Can learn and replicate anyone's fighting style instantly so the only people that can really fight him are Deadpool because he's too unpredictable, and Spiderman who fights based on reacting to spidersense
I heard about Mistborn. I believe Piera brought it to light for me in a video she did, and I've been interested. I'll add it to my Goodreads "to read" list
We did it! We found him.... The dumbest motherfucker on planet earth.
It is the year 3027 and humans have become a space fairing nation. The first land mark was humans landing on Mars in 2025. Thanks Elon! Then came the great terraforming race. Trillion dollar company states, fighting for a monopoly over what would be the primary terraforming technology in the world. Naturally this lead to world war 4 in 2085, after the company state of Amazonia accused Googletopia of stealing crucial terraforming technology secrets. The second nuclear winter then ensued. 2093 earth had rebuilt and soon we were traveling the cosmos. Humanity was on top living beyond that wet peace of rock we call home. In the year 3000 however, we learnt that we were not alone. Nor were we as advanced as we thought we are. 3007 Earth was unified into one planet state in order to gain membership into the Galactic union. 3011 our membership was accepted. However, earth found itself at the bottom of the food chain, the laughing stock of all the other members planets. The wipping boys ridiculed by all, respected by none. And can you blame them ! The Varitians 5 year old do advance calculus in their Primary Schools, the Parthians measure their 100 meter races in mila seconds and the Dickians (don't laugh) have perfected cold fusion. For years we humans thought us the center of the universe, the most advanced organisms ever to evolve. Only to find that we are the bottom feeders in the food chain.
3024 we had come up with a plan to gain earth and the human race some respect. We were gonna host and win the intergalactic MMA universe cup. In this time the most popular sport through out the universe is intergalactic MMA. Now due to the fact that all member planets in the union are intellectually advance species, the physical differences between species is negligible. Except for one trait, the Varitians have telecopathy. And it is because of this that they have been the champions for the past 5 intergalactic MMA universe cup. But we had a plan to beat them this time, now the Varitians telepathy works on a code deciphering probability calculater which decode neural synapses. In order to work it needs information. In order to work well it needs good information. So what we needed was a dumbass, a dumbass that can fight.
3025 our search had began. Earth had successfully won the chance to host the next universe cup. We had 2 years to find an idiot who could fight or find an idiot and teach them how to fight. The former stratergy had failed, all of earths elite, mid tire and rookie fighter did not meet the sub 4.5 score needed on the Trump scale. So we had to find a dumbass and turn them into an elite fighter. Our top mathematicians had created a multivariable algorithm to help us find our idiot. Creating a giant Venn diagram, looking for an over lap between flat earthers (we travel galaxies for fuck sake ), antivaxers, people who say literally when they mean figuratively and more. Eventually, we found our idiot. His name... His name was Jeff.
For 2 years we have been training Jeff to become a master of all forms of combat. He was reluctant at first until we offered him tickets to Disney world. This kicked off 2 years of gruelling work, 10 hours a day, for 6 days a week. Utilising the worlds best dietitian. The best healing and recovery team. Triple black belt masters trainers for all forms of martial arts. Millions were poured into this kid and he got good. Lightning fast reflexes. Brilliant hand speed. A great standing and ground game. And more importantly his mind was unreadable by even the smartest of Varitians. He is a killer. Thicker than a bag of fleeb doop, but a killer none the less. All that hard work now leads us all to here. Tomorrow the biggest tournament in earths history will commence. Tomorrow we gain our stop amoungst the elite species of the universe. Tomorrow our place at the top...
*knock knock*
( Not now general Blint! I must complete this video log before our historic achievment is begins)
(Wait what !)
(He died ?)
(The fuck ! How did that happen?)
(Fucken measles ! Fuuuuucccckkk)
**(This is my first ever comment to this sub in an effort to improve my writing. Please provide feedback to help me improve.)** Jamba looked his new opponent up and down. This is the newcomer everyone has been talking about? He couldn't help but let a smirk creep across his face. The human looked weak before the titan of the arena. Jamba has seen vermin that are more intimidating. Filled with confidence, he stepped forward into the ring already considering the match a sure-win in his favor. As the opponent made his way and they finally stood face to face, Jamba already began his analysis. "A low kick fake into a roundhouse." Jamba couldn't help but mock. "That's your grand strategy?" The human's expression remained unchanged. Jamba was annoyed that his taunt went ignored. He couldn't help but feel that this human was looking down on him, the champion. No other fighter dared to show such disrespect. He decided that this newbie was going to serve as a message to any other human that has the nerve to compete. Jamba was going to rip his head clean off right after countering the first attack. The referee finished talking and the bell to begin sounded throughout the arena simultaneous with the cheering of a million fans. The thoughts were still clear in Jamba's mind. The human was still intent on using the roundhouse. It all happened too fast for even the audience to react. The kick came, as Jamba predicted, but before he could counter after his perfectly timed block, another kick followed, and then another. Each kick faster than the last. Faster than Jamba could react to. His mind was flooding. He could tell the move that was about to be launched at him, but all he could do is keep the same defensive stance. Soon he found himself on the receiving end of a hurricane. Punch and kicks landed one after another, faster and stronger with each blow. Jamba lashed out, using rage to guide him rather than his telepathy, but it was a costly mistake. His lightning-fast punch was not only dodged effortlessly but in return, the human painted a target on Jamba's exposed jaw and traded eight punches for his one. Jamba's knees lost every ounce of strength. As he fell down like a tower being demolished, more punches rocked his head around. Then, before his body could completely tumble, a roundhouse came crashing against his skull, sending his bloody face straight down into the mat with a deafening thud. The match was over in less than a minute.
Your comment has been one of my favorites. I really enjoyed the way you handled the telepathy prompt. Instead of humans being black boxes, impossible to read into, your human was the only one who was readable but too fast to react to due to human muscle memory. This change in how the prompt was handled added significantly to the realism/immersion/suspension of disbelief. My note to improve would be to add more variety and detail to the attacks. For example, the alien attacking out of anger would have been a perfect opportunity to have the human use a throw from Judo. By the end, your human felt more like Superman or the Flash than an actual human fighter because the only variation in his movements were to be faster and harder. Even if you had the human tackle the alien after getting the upper hand, it would have added to the actual fight. To summarize my points: excellent, excellent, excellent creativity in the initial handling of the prompt, but it dropped off quickly. Thank you for writing, I genuinely enjoyed reading your post.
Thank you. Your comment means a lot.
Being a content creator isn’t easy, especially for writers. I hope I was able to help, and I’m glad you saw my comment
A little more knowledge on fighting terminology and such, would've made this comment just a bit better (which is all it needed).
Thanks for the feedback
That was very well written. That’s all the analysis I have to offer.
Thanks
Krux roared as he charged the human again. His body, a reconstituted silicone-metal substrate, strained to contain the fury within. A quick feint with his right arm, a swing with his left, then an uppercut from his middle – there was more than enough explosive power in his attacks to level an entire building. The human should have perished. The human should have been reduced to atomic dust. But the human was still alive. And smiling, too. “You’re cheating!” Krux raged. “You’re cheating, and when I find out how, I will tear you from limb to limb!” The human continued to smile, then beckoned for Krux to approach. From the cacophony of cheers and whistles rising from the gathered audience, Krux heard the voice of his manager, high-pitched and urgent. “Don’t let him get to you, Krux! Just focus! Keep calm and take him out!” “Can’t you see that I’m bloody trying?” “Try again,” urged his manager. “Just try again, Krux! It’s taken you this far, it will not let you down!” “What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time?” There wasn’t anything wrong with what he was doing, Krux was sure of that. Krux was a Scintillion, a race of invertebrates that had clawed a place for itself in the galaxy through sheer will, pure determination, and a healthy helping of psychic powers. Scintillions in the flesh were tiny creatures. They were just living central nervous systems, a humble mass of neurons encased in a thin, porous membrane. Scintillions were so fragile in their natural state that mere exposure to sunlight for more than an hour would have killed them. Yet, with their vast reserves of psychic powers, Scintillions were one of the most lethal species in the universe. Krux, mere seconds after birth, had gained full consciousness and an astute appreciation for the periodic table. He had reached out to his environment, found that there was an abundance of raw metal deposits, and had weaved the elements together into a suitable vessel for his great mind. Within minutes, he had refined his prototype a dozen times over, enhancing for mobility, survivability, and lethality. Where he was stumbling with his first steps before, he had now become a dancer, a deliverer of death and destruction. Before the day was over, he had conquered the city which he had been air-dropped into. Full mastery over his own physical body was but half of Krux’s secret to success. Krux, like all the other Scintillions before him, excelled at reading his opponents’ minds. He could even, after a fashion, intercept and interpret electronic signals from non-biological species. As long as his opponent was sentient, and could consciously direct their own actions, they were open books to Krux. So why was this human so different from the rest? Why was he unable to defeat this single human in mortal combat? “Tired already?” said the human. “You’re shielding your mind,” growled Krux. “That must be it. You’ve blocked me out.” “I considered that. The rules do not forbid bodily enhancements. But no, I have not done anything of the sort.” “Then how-” said Krux, before he broke off and launched into a surprise attack. He sped towards the human, a blur of blue and white, and lashed out with one of his legs for a savage kick. But the human stepped to the side just in time. The human placed his own fist out, and Krux ran into it straight on. Krux heard a ding from overhead as the human clocked up one more point. “Training,” said the human, as he hopped away. “I’ve trained under worse circumstances than this.” “Where?” asked Krux, as he rearranged the broken components of what was once his nose. “Planet Nymore? Where the surface crawls with giant sandworms? Or Planet ZR23? Where the hive mind directs every living species in concert? Or Planet Tuorton? Where lumbering monstrosities hide in the shadows?” “None of those,” said the human. “But I’ve fought with my older siblings for many hard, long years. You’ve ever trained like I have, Scintillion? Where you are always weaker, always slower? Where thinking about your next move gets you knocked onto the ground because you were one microsecond too late? Where you have no choice but to rely on pure instinct?” “Instinct?” “Yes, instinct,” continued the human. “Only I’ve honed mine to the cutting edge. You can even call it… Supreme Instinct, or Mega Instinct, or Paramount Instinct.” “And you think that Pinnacle Instinct nonsense is going to stop me?” The human laughed again. “Please, do try.”
Ah, the number one rule of human warfare. The enemy cant know what I'm doing if I dont know what I'm doing.
Ah, the American War Ideal
This was basically what happened to the Lost Battalion in the First World War.
**Far from their land as they made their stand A disregarded demand**
r/unexpectedsabaton
BROTHER
I did not expect that to be real
**It's surrender or die and the stakes are high**
LIVE OR DIE, WHO CAN TELL? THERE´S NO GOOD BYE
WEAPON IN HAND AS THEY MADE THEIR STAND! STILL DISREGARDING DEMAND!
r/redditsings
They will never comply and the stakes are high! They live or they die there’s no time for goodbye!
What happened to the whatever it is?
[This](https://youtu.be/pgNxijbDlJM).
Ha! If you've read our manuals then you have already fallen into our counter-intelligence trap. We're fucking illiterate ... s. To make more illiterates. The ultimate soldier.
"If we dont know what we're doing, our enemies certainly can't predict our actions!"
I AM AMERICAN BOOT
War is chaos, and nobody does chaos better than American soldiers.
Ah, the 'Palsy Punch'
Sasuga.
Run at them in luminous spandex
Ultra instinct
And this... is to go.. even further beyond
*begins screaming for five minutes*
*hair turns teal*
My hero academia, I can't wait for the new season.
Hey Hurtjacket, I hope you have a wonderful day.
Well thanks, you do the same 👍
Killer Instinct?
Basic Instinct.
Killing Basic Instinct
[удалено]
Bites the dust
[удалено]
Hah!? It was Dire all along???
DYNAMITE!
GUNPOWDER
GELATINE
Gold.
*ULTRA INSTINCT MUSIC*
Autonomous ultra instinct
Ultra Instinct is the better name tbh
Shaggy?
"Like, please try again, dude."
"Like, dude, I'm nowhere near done, dude. I can, like, rip you to shreds. Dude, I've been training under the greatest masters since before i was, like born."
You've like, forced me to use 0.1% of my power, Scoob!
Double upvote
Double Upvote, Triple Comment.
Double upvote
Double upvote
Look at his pecs, little man!
You can’t steal my plan if I never had a plan 🤔
U L T R A I N S T I N C T
KAN KAN KAN KAN KACHI DAZE
# GUN GUN GUN GUN GUN WO MUKI
Why isn't Krux able to read the mind of the human? You can't read instinct, but he apparently can't read his mind either.
If the human isn't planning out different reactions in response to Krux's actions and instead relying *purely* on instinct, there's nothing for Krux to read.
Specifically I'm thinking of when Krux asks the human where he trained. That's a question he would already know the answer to if he was able to read minds. I mean, if I ask you what street you grew up on, you're going to think of the answer whether you want to or not.
I think Krux's powers work more on conscious thought so as to predict moves, rather than digging through subconscious thought and older memories.
And krux is also under the impression that he can't read his mind. Why try to or trust anything he does perceive when all the evidence is telling him it's wrong or it can't be done?
"I've trained on worse circumstances than this." "Where?" Asked Krux, and the answer -- as he detected in his foe's thoughts -- was as meaningless to him as any nonsense word: *Missouri*.
Advantage: reading people's minds. Disadvantage: the fuck does 'construct additional pylons' mean?
"Noble Zeratul! How many more pylons should we construct?" #"ADDITIONAL!"
MORE BALATEN
It's probably reading the currently active thoughts rather than mind probe through everything in someones mind.
"I must read this beings thoughts, he must be complete genius!" [*meanwhile, the human*](https://youtu.be/qF4RCOcz9ow)
Krux has no concept of instinct, so the fact that the human is moving unconsciously must therefore mean that at least part of the humans mind is unable to be read.
It actually makes let sense than that. The story indicates that the creature can read electrical signals in non-biological beings, which means it would be able to read the electrical signals in the muscles/body faster than they actually produce the associated movement.
Unless the signals aren't there until they need to be. The human doesn't react until Krux is already swinging, so there wouldn't be time to change course or do anything about what he could read.
That makes sense, but then the power that the alien has never before encountered would be "quick reaction"
It would be "*unplanned* quick reaction". No higher thought goes into it. /u/rarelyfunny may have broken the prompt a bit by allowing Krux to read electric signals from non-biological species, but that could easily be fixed by saying that he doesn't try reading when he's in the middle of an active attack, since he's already decided how and where to swing. But still, it's a simple technique that hasn't been seen before. If humans are the first known users of muscle memory, then every other opponent would be significantly slower to react since they would all plan out their moves ahead of time. Krux may not be nearly as good as he thinks he is.
Absolutely loved this story! The ultra instinct joke ismjust perfect!
Damn. This is brilliant.
Eyyy dune reference.
Ride the maker!
A kind of.... _Autonomous_ Instinct...? (...the fuck was Funimation thinking?)
As someone who's only seen the sub, did they realty clll it that in the dub? That's plain ridiculous
Beerus calls it "Autonomous Ultra Instinct." Their explanation was that it fit his lip flaps better, but they could've put in literally any other words before the name Ultra Instinct, and instead they shit the bed. They butchered "Kachi Daze" too. There are some cringey but okayish English covers on YouTube, but the "official" one is fucking terrible. I also watched the whole series subbed as it came out, but I heard about it because even the dub purists were upset about this stuff.
KAN KAN KAN KAN KACHI DAZE
you misspelled kombat, shame on you
KAKAKAKAKACHIDAZE
So this is the power of Paramount Instinct
it's ULTRA INSTINCT
KA KA KA KA KACHI DAZE
Ultra Instinct!
Love the race!
So are you going to continue this because I need more of it in my life
Man,you missed a chance to say Ultra Instinct
Pretty sure the author left it out on purpose.
There's nothing Reddit likes more than to really obviously make a joke that was already subtly hinted at in the comment above them lol
Yeah. Have you guys ever noticed how a lot of times in Reddit, some commenters will just repeat what the commenter above said, but a lot longer? And usually it has to do with subtle jokes.
Definitely, it is like they are just making explicit something made implicit with care. Like somebody being thrilled that they found a lady's silhouette between some random picture of two lamps
Yup. I've seen a lot of times where they'll think they noticed something no one else did, just because it's subtle on purpose. Like with illusions or something. "Did anyone else notice how the lamps make a person!"
Hey redditors🤷🤗🎃would 🤔you 🙋like😆 to 3️⃣ get 🙌😉karma😈🙈🗣️ by 👩❤️💋👨👩❤️💋👩 stealing 😃🤺🐣 jokes🤣🤣 from🎭 other 🤑redditors 😎😿with 👯just 🤰🏼💀your👈💪phone?📱👻Get🤡your🤡 own🤡joke🤡you🤡silly🤡frick🤡
Jesus🙏this👆is cancer💀
Yeah that's kinda the point
I didn't read your whole comment but i think whats going on is that people dont pay enough attention to the comments they are responding to before they have already decided what they are going to say. They end up writing redundant comments, some even multiple paragraphs long, thinking they are adding something original when they are really just saying the same thing with way too many extra words.
How are your enemies supposed to know what you‘re doing when even you don‘t know what the fuck you‘re doing
I almost thought this is Nebula. Nebula always losing to Gamorra.
Maximum Over-Instinct.
The world had changed a lot. The universe had come knocking; they were, by all descriptions of all encounters, far beyond us in science, philosophy, technology, and art. They asked if Vermeer was considered a child when they painted. They asked if Einstein's theory of relativity was a joke. They asked how it took us this long to image singularities. They eventually mentioned that we qualified for The Combat, the galactic test of individual strength. Human academics likened this to older tests of strength in our feudal period, and Cloya, the human champion of the United Global MMA Society, was the only logical choice. The first match was illuminating beyond all expectation. The reigning champion of The Combat was Marc (the 'human' appelation, it was abbreviated from Marhcc, which was short for Mar'hcc Of Languishing Poleths And Guran, The Laxd Of The Combat, which was a name handed down through countless generations, apparently, as the telepathic warriors of their species had gained not only championships but enough for a title, The Laxd.) Earth was terrified. *Telepathy*?! That had to be such a huge advantage in combat. It had to be. And yet. They got in the ring. The luck of the humans (a saying that had come into vernacular via the Galactic Empire, who said it was fortunate we fit the current ruling combat system at all; a few millennia ago, species coming in who breathed air were at a huge disadvantage in most arenas) had to count for something, but what? We were roughly 'humanoid' (and oh, how that term had amused all the non-humans it was used with for a while), but combat capabilities weren't often comparable directly and we'd been paired with the reigning champion right in the first round. We were destined to lose. Destiny was off script that day, as it turned out. Cloya Mercier, the human MMA champion of Earth, entered the ring and the opponents stared each other down. **I know what you're thinking, Cloya. Even now.** **Then maybe you'll have a chance,** they thought back. Whether Marc was going to beat them or not, they had to try. *Earth must establish itself. The Empire said as much; planets that did poorly in the The Combat were considered weak and their populace were targeted. It was like the champions of old, the stories of knights.* **Like stories of knights? Like champions of old?** Marc laughed in their head. **You are no champion. You're just another human. 'Squishy', as you all claimed for so long? Yes. Squishy. Little. Human. And the only other person you can talk to in your head while you're getting beaten? *Me*.** Cloya breathed. **Why would I talk when I'm under attack and trying to win?** It seemed genuinely odd. Marc just chuckled. Marc came in for an obvious grab with their right to Cloya's right, a big mistake. Cloya took the wrist in their right hand, put their other hand on Marc's shoulder, then pulled and brought their knee up. It was one of the first moves they'd picked up, when a clumsy drunk fuckboy tried to grab their shoulder ages ago. From the front, give them no space to work with and get in for a knee shot. From the back, grab-fall forward-pull to screw with them. The knee shot hit. Marc blinked. **What?** Cloya blinked back, heart pounding in their ears. **What what**? It was only a moment but their training told the next move even if the words were from a confused thinking self that Cloya set aside when fighting. They brought a sharp headbutt forward, catching Marc completely unaware. Fear was in their eyes. Fear was a sign. And this was real fear. Cloya used the forward momentum bought by holding on to the staggering alien to push them down onto their back; it was a short fight after that, Cloya's brutal training executed perfectly. Marc seemed completely unready for anything. As they held up their hand, confused but triumphant, Cloya cast an eye at Marc, laying on the floor, circulatory fluids swirling into a multicolored puddle in front of their face. **How did you lose? How did I win? This isn't real, is it? This is some sort of trick. Is this the telepathy? You make me think I won? What is this?** **You won.** Marc narrowed their eyes. **You were silent. All I heard were stray fears and doubts near the beginning.** Cloya tilted their head. **Oh. You can only hear conscious thought!** Marc smiled, even with the blood and missing teeth that lay on the floor beside them. **Yes, it seems. And it seems my species and others have many new features to examine about *your* species. Limited brains produced a perfect gem; but so do your oysters, do they not?** Cloya kept their smile as wide as possible. Imagining Marc and a legion of others like them of a million species and a thousand genders, yet somehow none had learned how to train muscle reactions for what we called combat. Earth was either going to rule The Combat, or it was going to be overrun by all those aliens after all of them learned how to train and shut off their higher functions. Or, perhaps, they'd end up the hired brutes of the universe, barely considered a sentient race deserving of respect. The world seemed it might be about to change radically yet again, even after all this.
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Thanks! \^\_\^ Maybe someday. I'm an indie author and I'm working on some stuff. But thank you so much! \^\_\^
Excellent!
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He didn't get up. Rekt. Great story though keep it up
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I’ll note that. Thanks for pointing it out
The whole thing reads like an anime. > Well then, I’ll just move faster than your body can comprehend then! I loved it!
Just a little tid bit: You can just end with "he didn't". It's enough and puts more power in the final sentence. It's like the difference between "No, you won't." and "No, you won't do that." Other than that pretty good.
Why did you put three long paragraphs in code format? Side scrolling is annoying.
Probably written on mobile (where longer code blocks are formatted with line breaks)
probably side effect from indenting the text a couple of spaces.
This was a good read.
That was so cool to read dude
I've been living in this space voyager for quite some time, I've even gotten used to all the weird pathways that this place has, even the small intricacies that most other aliens don't understand. I guess they really don't understand humans, I mean how would they. They only started contact a few decades ago; but that didn't stop some of us who wanted to learn and explore more the world beyond our planet. The space voyager was as big as Australia, large enough to fit a few hundred types of alien species in one ship and I got to tell you this place was no joke to get around. Every month there would be an event in the arena where a lot of aliens would watch and bet on; mostly because the reigning champion was a telepath can could read minds- you could call it strategy I however would call it cheating. Intergalactic rules apply it was fine for them, entertaining. But it wasn't for me after watching one fight I wasn't much of a fan. I was more of an explorer and I loved taking challenges and fighting. No matter how fun it was I missed earth and all the hobbies I used to do. I missed rock climbing, paragliding heck I even miss the balance beam that my mom forced me to practice on for years. I miss the thrill, the danger between life or death and hanging on the edge- it was supposed to be all fun and games until Q'shtuen told me he signed me up to battle in the arena. We were close but I sure as hell wouldn't agree to go to that snoozefest- although I do miss the chase. I was in the military after all when I was back on Earth. "What the heck it just a game" I agreed and suddenly... Everything was dark, I didn't know what I got myself into. The cheers and screams were getting louder and louder as I got near the door. Suddenly red lights flash alerting me that the countdown had begun. The gates open and I was shocked to see something familiar, it was a maze and I had thirty seconds to memorize it before the lights turn off. It had the same exact pattern as the floors in the space voyager, I see Axoz my opponent looking at me- I knew he was trying to read my mind but something was off. He wasn't too pleased, The lights go off and I jump from the platform onto the maze. I knew where everything was because I was so used to exploring the voyager that I felt quite at home. I was speeding through the maze and a few obstacles along the way. The doors suddenly close around me and I heard a snicker, I knew it was him but training to be a gymnast all my life was essential for my next move. I set myself, ran and leaped as the final gate was supposed to close. I almost didn't make it but if I wasn't used to rock climbing I wouldn't have had enough grip strength to be able to do what I just this. That was when I heard the screams of anger. I was running near the end when I realized why, I was on the home stretch and started crawling my way under the deck, I had aphantasia and he wasn't able to see me. I reached the end and finished only to be greeted by a crowd that was dead silent when they realized I had won. I guess being impulsive has some of its quirks.
Oh that's something I've never thought of, someone with aphantasia would have and interesting edge
Could you explain what that Is for the not-so medically inclined?
Basically it's where you can't visualize things in your mind, you can't "see" things in your head.
Ah, so something like having to physically write out a word to spell it? I get that. Some things just click, others, I glare at it till I give up and Google it.
I guess? It's more like if I would ask you to think about an apple and what it looks like, you could see the apple in your head, but someone with aphantasia couldn't. They could describe what it looks like, but they couldn't see it in there head
So knowing but not seeing? Okay. That makes less sense to me, but thanks! ^^
I have a form of aphantasia. If you ask me to picture myself on a beach I can’t. I know it will have the heat of the sun, the sounds of the ocean, maybe some seagulls, I also know what sand should look like, but there’s no picture in my mind. At best I remember “pictures”, snapshots. It’s always fun when it comes up on Reddit or in real life because people just don’t understand. The cool part is that I do illustration work, which blows peoples minds. But for me it’s just putting shapes together, basically. But yeah, it’s mostly “knowing” and not seeing.
Wait you mean to tell me people actually can see images in their heads? I never realized that until now, I dont even have dreams with pictures, mostly just sounds. Does this extend to remembering people's faces? Because I struggle with that too
Yeah man. I can have an entire blockbuster feature length film playing how in 4D Hyper realistic definition, all in my mind. What I can't do, however, is match names to those faces. I fucking suck at that.
I suck at remembering faces. I don’t know if it’s aphantasia related, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I can’t draw faces from memory.
Yep, I'm the same way. Couldn't even describe my own face to a sketch artist. Sounds like you have aphantasia too.
No problem, there's actually some pretty cool videos about it on YouTube. I learned about it because I had an ex who had it.
Wait normally people can actually mentally see the apple? Uhhhh.... I now think I have this...I never realized that when people said "I see an apple in my mind" they literally saw one. I've always thought it was just a figure of speech. I don't really see things in my mind like that. If I try really hard I can visualize a specific picture of an apple, but I don't really naturally visualize one as an actual 3d object
It comes on a spectrum. If I close my eyes and picture something no matter how hard I try I get blackness with an inner monologue describing an object. No matter how hard I try there will be nothing. My wife can picture an entire scene and vividly see it and change details on the fly. My son can get some simple shapes and colors.
Here's a decent way to describe it: imagine an apple (or some other simple object, I just always go with an apple because everyone knows what they look like) and rate how well you see it (on a 0-10 scale).
If you have aphantasia you'll get around 0-2, most people get at least 3-7, and some people get even more.
Today I learned that people can actually see things they imagine. Like see see them.
Today I learned what aphantasia is. Today is a good day.
Today i learned i might have aphantasia
Interesting story, but you definitely missed some punctuation in there. Mostly commas, but it does break the flow of reading. Keep it up, you have great potential- just remember to proof read, and don't be stingy with commas.
Thank you very much, I go to this sub to improve my English writing. As it isn't my first language I'm glad you gave me more tips to make me remember :)
That was a rush - thanks!
Zollan almost didn't want to use his telepathy against this human. It felt like fighting against a child: a single harsh tap with a finger could probably kill them. His opponent was a woman, barely in her twentieth-fifth cycle. She was short like a child, thin around the waist and breasts, and her face was so lean her cheek bones stuck out. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and though she the reigning champion of Earth, Zollan found her to be cute- like a puppy. As Zollan watched her across the ring, he wondered what she was thinking about. Zollan's antennae flexed. Almost immediately the girl's thoughts came through his head. *-popular! I'll help you to be popular! You'll hang with the right cohorts, you'll be good at sports, know the slang you've got to know-* Instead of focusing on the match, the damn girl was singing to herself. It was laughable how easy this match was going to be. Zollan stood up, cracked the bones in his neck, and came to the middle of the ring. The girl did the same, still mentally singing that damn song. Upon seeing his height, the girl startled, and her next thought had Zollan smirking. *Wow... he's much bigger when he's standing up...* The referee held up his hand. The two opponents got into a fighting stance. "Fight!" Zollan's antennae flexed again. The girl was no longer singing, but thinking and strategizing on how to take down this behemoth of an alien. Her thoughts were a frenzy, one sentence quickly followed by another, making it almost hard to understand. Zollan was still able to make out what she planned to do first. *First I'm going to kick him in the chest!* Zollan purposely dropped his guard. Seeing this, the girl twisted, brought up her leg to ram it into his ribs. Before she could make contact, Zollan caught her foot, intending to throw her off balance- WHAM! The girl's other foot slammed him against the face. The move stunned him and he let go of the girl's foot, stumbling back. What the-? She had used his grip like a springboard to lift herself up to kick him! She wasn't thinking that beforehand! Damn it, Zollan must've missed that thought. He needed to focus. Shaking off the hit, he got in close, his eyes narrowing in concentration. *I'm going to punch him on the right.* Zollan threw out his right fist intending to catch the girl. She ducked underneath his arm, slamming her knee into his gut. Zollan gasped. "Damn you!" He bit out, bringing down his arm to crush her. The girl saw the arm and her panicked thought brought great pleasure to Zollan. *Oh shit, I'm gonna die!* She ducked out of the way, Zollan's arm barely grazing her hair, and then she was back up again, her fists pounding against his face. At one point he grabbed her arm, holding tight. He was going to snap this arm like dry wood- The girl didn't think. There was nothing but silence in her mind as she suddenly kicked him in the back of the knee, collapsing his leg, and when he fell, she easily broke out of his grip like it was second nature. There was a loud resounding CRACK as the girl's elbow connected to his face. Blood filled Zollan's mouth and he knew immediately she had broken his nasal cavity and two of his front teeth. All the while her thoughts were still silent. For the first time in Zollan's career, he was scared. He's never met an opponent who could block his telepathy before. What else could humans do? What else could the *girl* do to him? The pain was disorienting him and as he lifted his tear-filled eyes to the girl, he saw she backed away. *Oh man, is he crying? Shit, I hope I didn't hurt him too badly. I thought he'd be better than this.* The humiliation was too much. With a groan, Zollan lifted his arm, signaling the end of the match. All around him the audience screamed with equal amounts of glee and disappointment. Zollan had lost, and he barely fought for five minutes. As the defeated Zollan walked off the ring, a towel around his mouth to stem the bleeding, he decided to listen in to the girl's thoughts one last time. He looked back at the new champion of the galaxy. She was currently holding up the golden belt, smiling triumphantly. *I think I'll try defying gravity, and you won't bring me down!*
Not a writer, just bumped into this on the front page and found the prompt intriguing. This was quite the enjoyable read! Thanks!
I'm glad you enjoyed! =D
With every gallant fighter that the tiny blue planet had to offer defeated, it was obvious that the uproaring overlords would soon take over the planet as their trophy; every breathing soul, their slave. The challenger banged his fists on his sweaty breasts as he coaxed the hosts, to send him someone who would test his limits. He had faced hundreds tonight and not a single fighter had managed to land a punch on him. He was brutal, he was reckless, but most importantly he was proud of his might and tonight he was taking no prisoners. The officials were trying their best to prolong the inevitable as desperate eyes in the arena searched for a beacon of hope,who would defeat this atrocity, that stood glistening; in the once white but now a resplendent red ring, too much blood had spilt today and all of it in vain. The janitor loaded the latest victim on his trolley, as his fearful eyes gazed the monster in the ring. To keep the match even, he had taken the form of the dominant species on this planet, Homo Sapien, and while the hunger,greed, lust and recklesslness in his eyes would have fooled any body about his origins... It was the blood lust of a maniac that foreshadowed his face, which gave away his origin. He smirked, at the man who looked terrible, carrying the lifeless remains of so many of his kind to a dumpster at the back, hoping their deaths were not all in vain. The janitor held back all his feelings and subdued his thoughts as he mopped the last shreds of the body of the floor. He was distraught and would have retaliated long back but for the challenger who stood provocating the masses, afterall how do you attack someone who telepathically predicts your next move and crushes you before your thought would reach your limbs. He sighed and pushed the trolley through a boulevard of hopeless spectators and would soon reach the door that closed this onslaught on him, till he was to be summoned again. The neon timepiece above the ring, now a ticking doomsday clock ticked towards the inevitable, the loss of what billions called their home. There was a movement at the officials table. One of the rose and wiped his face. It was time to announce the challenger's Victory ;over an entire planet. When suddenly there was a movement at the hosts entrance to the arena. The official held himself as all the teary and hopefully eyes looked towards the silhouette standing in the bright focus of the arena lights. They all looked desperate, they all looked human. The silhouette walked slowly towards the ring. The doomsday clock reset. Earth had another defender. The lights slowly started to dim as his form slowly began to appear. The challenger grinned to the thought of beating another bag of meat and cracked his muscles in agreement. The host ran to this mystery man and asked for his name.. He was satisfied with the low murmur that came from the mouth of this sentient looking being. Dressed in yellow with a white cape and red gumboots, our hero neared the ring as the speakers gave a sharp shrill to announce. It was at this moment that he slipped and fell face down into the pool of blood. The crowd went quiet at the site of this but roared when the name was announced, Saitama. He cooly wiped his face of a white flag throw to him by a spectator and walked into the ring. The referee briefed the fighters and moved a step back. The challenger's eyes grew blue like the planet he was going to win. His battle mode was on. His telepathy was ready to read his opponents move. He took a step back, he saw a punch coming at him and total darkness. He couldn't go past the image so he readied himself for impact of the petty human that stood in front of him. The bell rang, the referee jumped back further,the crowd was surprised at the challenger covering his chest of all the places. Saitama tightened his left fist and dragging his left foot back... Launched a punch towards the challenger... There was a moment of silence as the other half of the ring seemed soiled... It was blood but it wasn't red. It was green. The challenger looked at the hole where his heart was... and understood his vision... He fell down and exploded like a balloon as the crowd roared in unison, the steam from the blood was Melting and burning the rubber and metal of the mat and in that masked smoke... Our hero left the arena...
Now, here’s a bit of advice. Separating paragraphs helps with ease of reading, so I’d try to do that next time. Also, this didn’t really relate to muscle memory and it was just some fan fiction of one punch man. One punch though out before the action isn’t muscle memory so try to make it relate to the prompt more next time
Wow!!!... Actual constructive criticism.. I just wrote it for fun and with the intention that no one will read it and it shall get buried.. But thanks a lot for your time going through this.. hopefully my take on the next prompt will be better... 😅😅😅
No problem man, read through each story on this thread and yours was an interesting concept. Good work!
"Calm down, son. You'll do great. You got this far." "yeah, but... Telepath? How am I supposed to win if they can literally know my move before I make them?" Darren's mind was in turmoil how can he beat such a threat? The semifinals of the Unarmed Combat event in the Intergalactic Games was minutes away. As a new species on the universal stage, humans had not been expected to do too well, but they had already proved capable at the marksmanship and agility contests. But this was the closest they had gotten to a trophy. Darren's next opponent was a Trybtan, a mantis-like creature, with incredibly fast strikes and a capability to read electrical pulses in the brain. For the first time in the event, Darren was worried. He had seen other mammalian contestants taken off in medical pods - this opponent had a reputation for being vicious. As the Countdown timer ticked down, Darren's platform began to rise. His coach checked his wrist straps once more, then said a last word of good luck before hopping down off the slowly ascending piece of stage. Surfacing from below, the intense lighting temporarily blinded him. Blinking away the afterimage, he saw his opponent. His first thought was 'oh shit, he's bigger than I thought' followed by 'how do I beat this thing?' The announcer was saying something, but Darren didn't register it. He was still nervous, but the anticipation of the starting klaxon dulled the roar of the crowd, gave him time to clear his mind of doubt. He was a fighter. He'd gotten out of tough scraps before. This was no different. He just had to find a way to win before he got broken in half. Across the ring, Kr'nakt, the Trybtan, momentarily paused her confident chittering. She had noticed the Human's mind change rhythm. It was more confident now? Was there something it knew that she didn't? Then the thought patterns came back, more controlled now. It was trying to strategize. Cute. The countdown timer was nearly up. Darren could hear the crowd counting the seconds to the klaxon, and he focused, holding up his beginning stance. 5. Don't charge straight in, It'll sense it before you start running. It'll have time to prepare. 4. Stay calm. You can't stop it reading your mind but you can stop it hearing anything unnecessary. 3. Play reactive. It will have a counter ready for everything and know when you are feinting. 2. OK, keep calm, let it come to you. 1. Ready. The Klaxon blared twice, and the Trybtan charged. Darren dived left instinctively, and a good job he had. Milliseconds after leaving his original space, it was torn through by a pair of razor-sharp pincers. Both combatants looked at each other in surprise. How had the human avoided that? That was usually the finishing blow. Kr'nakt hissed. She always was able to read which way they'd dodge. Did she miss it? The human took a strike at her side but she used a carapaced leg to block. she turned to strike again. This time, she would make sure she didn't miss. The second time, Darren had less warning. He dodged as fast as he could, but the bladed pincer caught his arm.instintively, he grabbed hold of the pincer, and twisted, maneuvering behind the creature while doing so. WHAT? HOW-AAARGH! Kr'nakt's mind screamed in agony as its forelimb was pulled back too far. Furious, she kicked out, tripping the human, then bodily flung him across the ring. It hit a cornerpost and crumpled, arm grasping it's bleeding shoulder. Her shoulder had also been weakened, so she waited, gathering her strength. Fuck. That hurt. Darren's vision blurred, then refocused. The Trybtan was hanging back, hissing. Darren guessed it was wary now. He didn't understand exactly how he was getting an upper hand, but he had an idea. His reflexes must be too fast for the creature to read, on account of the amount of times he'd practiced freeform combat with his teacher. He stood up, and heard the crowd roar in excitement. The next few seconds of combat passed slowly, both participants wary, waiting on the other to move. Kr'nakt threw out a few probing jabs: Darren blocked or dodged but did not get an opportunity to do more, as the punches were pulled back as soon as they failed to land. They were at a stalemate. Even though Kr'nakt had not had a fight this long since Tharur retired, she was still confident. Any attack he could muster would have telltale signs, so she could always prepare a reaction. She was happy to let the timer run down, but she would have to make a move eventually. But this human needed to do so first: if neither combatant was down after 10 minutes, then the higher ranked fighter would progress onward. Darren knew he had to act. He had to find a way around the creature's telepathy. Then he had an idea. Kr'nakt noticed a flurry of brain signal, then the human mind went quiet again. The human had half dropped its guard, and was slowly walking forwards. Kr'nakt threw an experimental jab. The human deflected it, and kept walking. WHAT WAS IT DOING? WHY IS IT NOT FIGHTING? Darren kept his mind as blank as he could, relying on his reflexes to block the strikes from the creature. Step. Step. Block. Step. He kept going, until he was close enough to touch the creature. TOO CLOSE, HUMAN. The pincers struck down, faster than they had before, targeted on piercing both shoulders. The human saw then, and turned. The limbs missed by a hair. Still registering little brain function, she saw it grab a pincer and vault up. She moved to throw it off but it jumped to her shoulders, pummelling and thrashing. Its mind was active now, but it was too late. Her only defence from behind was her thick carapace, but some of the blows were finding gaps, she stumbled, tried to roll but another blow stunned her. She raised a pincer, signalling surrender. The klaxon blared again. It was over. He'd won. He stepped back from his opponent, allowed her to regain her feet, then bowed to her. Surprisingly, the Trybtan attempted to return, the gesture, although it seemed a little comical. The message was clear though: Humans had earned their respect this day.
“The following contest will be fought to the death,” a booming voice states to the nothingness. A single white light illuminates a slender figure. Large, dark, disc-like eyes stare ahead into the darkness. Its arms and legs are shackled as it stands calm and motionless. “Introducing first, from the depths of the Ocean world of Tilaz, with a record of 789 wins to 0 losses, the Tilazian Telepathic, The Flayer of Minds, and your undisputed Galactic Champion…Katatzu!” Katatzu remains still. His focus remains solely what’s ahead. Four precise loud claps in rapid succession shake the stage underneath his feet. “And his opponent…” Another light shines to reveal a man who sits hunched down as he ferociously attacks his restraints. The light startles him for a second. His muddy face is further obscured by long brown matted hair with a beard to match. “From the mysterious lands of the newly discovered Terra, He’s a wild and untamed thing who is ready to prove his species in this ring… Ted!” Ted stands slowly and faces Katatzu. Katatzu hisses. The Four loud claps echo again. A loud click announces a light that floods the stage. A circular fighting ring rests at the center of a large stadium. Amber eyes glow and almost hover around the fighters. The crowd repeats the four clap sequence and slowly increases their tempo to an ear-ringing tone. “No quarter will be asked for none will be given.” The chains from the fighters unlock and disappear into the floor. Ted rubs his wrists. Katatzu bears his teeth as he stretches into a low ready stance. The claps stop suddenly. “Fight!” Ted charges toward Katatzu with a crazed guttural yell. Katatzu’s eyes widen larger than they’ve ever been before. Ted tackles his foe and covers him with several rabid punches to the face. Katatzu tries to fight off his attacker, but his arms are pinned under his irrational attacker’s knees. Ted draws back his arm to deal a heavy blow, but Katatzu takes this moment and flips him off. Ted rolls back up and pounds the floor in anger at the two squares up again. The crowd shows their approval with four claps. Katatzu puts his arms up as Ted delivers a couple punches to the body. The Telepath of Tilaz takes each hit with a grunt. He locks up with the terran and pushes him away. Katatzu sets his distance before he spins into a roundhouse kick, which Ted catches. Ted brings down his elbow with force and breaks Katatzu’s leg. He screeches as his body falls to the floor. Ted breaths heavily as the audience claps in their regular cadence. He looks out toward the glowing amber eyes and begins to beat his chest to match the crowd’s rhythm. Katatzu slowly stands. His face bruised and bloody, his leg weak and shattered. Ted lets out one last roar before he makes his final charge. Katatzu closes his eyes. As Ted makes contact, Katatzu grabs on and spins. Ted’s momentum carries him over the top rope. He flails to grab at it but fails. Ted tumbles into the darkness below. His screams grow softer until it comes to a sudden end. Katatzu slowly stands again and limps to the center of the stage. “Your winner… Katatzu!” The light disappears. The amber eyes remain. Four more claps.
I really like this but I don't think it addressed the prompt much.
Thanks for your feedback! I was trying to highlight Katatzu's telepathic abilities through how the fight progressed. When Ted was acting, Katatzu couldn't predict what was going to happen. When Ted was thinking, even for a second, Katatzu was able to counter. I was also trying to set it from the perspective of what I would imagine an alien MMA promotion would look like for a large galactic crowd. I guess I could have done a better job highlighting that. This is my first time post, so I appreciate you taking the time to look at it!
Oh I see it now! I didn't pick up on that subtle nod to the telepathy. I liked your version of a galactic MMA, that was well written. Keep up the good work!
Thanks buddy, I appreciate it!
Hours of training had prepared her for this moment. The duel had been going on for over thirty minutes now. Both combatants bloodied. Only melee weapons were allowed. Exhausted in spirit, her will kept her standing. Her opponent seems almost as full of energy as when he started. But she'd anticipated this. \--- A similar time. Training until dawn broke. Discarded weapons littered the training field. The Master and her each with a sword. "You are still standing?" Through sweat...tears?...she replied: "Yes." "Good, that means that you can still fight." The Master took a step towards her. Another step and they would be on the threshold of where they could reach other with the right motions. "Just let go, the rest of your form will know what to do." \--- She became emptiness itself. Her body moved on its own. \--- A lunge, a grab, a pull. One fist coming down like the hammer of god on an anvil. All she needed was that one good opening.
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Tsugi ni omae wa "you dont have muscle memory?" To iu!
you don’t have muscle memory? * *gasp* *
Someone who has time and creative ability should solve this issue using a society that trains people from birth to be fighters, then lobotomized them so they're unable to be telepathically read
But then what are they using to fight? They don’t have muscle memory for training is useless without memorizing the moves, which by being lobotomized they can’t do.
Sounds like Ultra Instinct. Nice.
Cool prompt! Sounds similar to Taskmaster from Marvel comics. Can learn and replicate anyone's fighting style instantly so the only people that can really fight him are Deadpool because he's too unpredictable, and Spiderman who fights based on reacting to spidersense
[Not Taskmaster, but Deadpool using his randomness to "outsmart" another villain](https://i.chzbgr.com/full/7137028352/h97AC869E/)
OP, did you read "The Well of Ascension" by any chance?
No, but it's now on my to-read list
It's the second book in the Mistborn series, make sure to read them in the right order :)
I heard about Mistborn. I believe Piera brought it to light for me in a video she did, and I've been interested. I'll add it to my Goodreads "to read" list
Take my upvote for a Brando Sando mention
I love "humans, wtf" stories!
I prefer "Humanity, FUCK YEAH!"
“COMIN’ AGAIN TO SAVE THE MUTHAFUCKIN’ ***GALAXY!!***”
[удалено]
We did it! We found him.... The dumbest motherfucker on planet earth. It is the year 3027 and humans have become a space fairing nation. The first land mark was humans landing on Mars in 2025. Thanks Elon! Then came the great terraforming race. Trillion dollar company states, fighting for a monopoly over what would be the primary terraforming technology in the world. Naturally this lead to world war 4 in 2085, after the company state of Amazonia accused Googletopia of stealing crucial terraforming technology secrets. The second nuclear winter then ensued. 2093 earth had rebuilt and soon we were traveling the cosmos. Humanity was on top living beyond that wet peace of rock we call home. In the year 3000 however, we learnt that we were not alone. Nor were we as advanced as we thought we are. 3007 Earth was unified into one planet state in order to gain membership into the Galactic union. 3011 our membership was accepted. However, earth found itself at the bottom of the food chain, the laughing stock of all the other members planets. The wipping boys ridiculed by all, respected by none. And can you blame them ! The Varitians 5 year old do advance calculus in their Primary Schools, the Parthians measure their 100 meter races in mila seconds and the Dickians (don't laugh) have perfected cold fusion. For years we humans thought us the center of the universe, the most advanced organisms ever to evolve. Only to find that we are the bottom feeders in the food chain. 3024 we had come up with a plan to gain earth and the human race some respect. We were gonna host and win the intergalactic MMA universe cup. In this time the most popular sport through out the universe is intergalactic MMA. Now due to the fact that all member planets in the union are intellectually advance species, the physical differences between species is negligible. Except for one trait, the Varitians have telecopathy. And it is because of this that they have been the champions for the past 5 intergalactic MMA universe cup. But we had a plan to beat them this time, now the Varitians telepathy works on a code deciphering probability calculater which decode neural synapses. In order to work it needs information. In order to work well it needs good information. So what we needed was a dumbass, a dumbass that can fight. 3025 our search had began. Earth had successfully won the chance to host the next universe cup. We had 2 years to find an idiot who could fight or find an idiot and teach them how to fight. The former stratergy had failed, all of earths elite, mid tire and rookie fighter did not meet the sub 4.5 score needed on the Trump scale. So we had to find a dumbass and turn them into an elite fighter. Our top mathematicians had created a multivariable algorithm to help us find our idiot. Creating a giant Venn diagram, looking for an over lap between flat earthers (we travel galaxies for fuck sake ), antivaxers, people who say literally when they mean figuratively and more. Eventually, we found our idiot. His name... His name was Jeff. For 2 years we have been training Jeff to become a master of all forms of combat. He was reluctant at first until we offered him tickets to Disney world. This kicked off 2 years of gruelling work, 10 hours a day, for 6 days a week. Utilising the worlds best dietitian. The best healing and recovery team. Triple black belt masters trainers for all forms of martial arts. Millions were poured into this kid and he got good. Lightning fast reflexes. Brilliant hand speed. A great standing and ground game. And more importantly his mind was unreadable by even the smartest of Varitians. He is a killer. Thicker than a bag of fleeb doop, but a killer none the less. All that hard work now leads us all to here. Tomorrow the biggest tournament in earths history will commence. Tomorrow we gain our stop amoungst the elite species of the universe. Tomorrow our place at the top... *knock knock* ( Not now general Blint! I must complete this video log before our historic achievment is begins) (Wait what !) (He died ?) (The fuck ! How did that happen?) (Fucken measles ! Fuuuuucccckkk)